


The Mark He Left Behind

by freshli



Series: Fantasy!!! On Ice [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, First and Only love, Fluff, Kind of a sad ending but mostly hopeful, Kitsune, Kitsune Yuuri, Knight Viktor, Knight Yakov, M/M, Magic AU, Romance, True Love, Yakov is such a dudebro idk why, kind of, they only kiss, they're sort of ripoff knights tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9243773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshli/pseuds/freshli
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov falls in love with a kitsune named Yuuri at the age of sixteen. Fate decides to pull Viktor away from Yuuri before their love can fully flourish. Viktor learns about love, Yakov interjects his opinions, and Yuuri is just pretty.--The companion piece to 'When Saving Fairies'. A prequel of how Viktor met Yuuri and their unfortunate separation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Further garbage has been written. This is technically a companion piece to my other fic 'When Saving Fairies' but you really don't need to read it in order to appreciate/follow this work.
> 
> This wound up being a bit more about Viktor's background than originally planned. Although the perspective is mostly from Viktor's there are instances where it's kind of from Yakov's, negl. 
> 
> They sadly don't have sex this is just pure and sweet boys falling in love (boy? Yuuri is technically old as balls....) This is a prequel to Viktor eventually finding Yuuri again later in his life. Which will hopefully be a thing I eventually write probably.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm tragically not responsible for Yuri on Ice. This fantasy world I've sort of handwaved into creation is a collaborative inspiration of things like old fairy tales, Game of Thrones, and Lord of the Rings. Some of it is original but that's neither here nor there because who cares amirite. 
> 
> General Note: I'm thinking about bringing in more of the other characters from this series and making them mythos creatures/knights/princes/princesses/etc?? Idk yet though but I have some ideas. I'll post any and all related works to this series as collective one-shots set in the same timeline and universe.
> 
> If you want I guess you can follow me on tumblr I'm mostly a dumbass so there you go but you can ask questions about things or whatever...anyway I'm over @khaleeshli

Yakov said that his apprenticeship would accumulate over time based on how well Viktor proved his skills. Yakov had discovered Viktor in the streets of a minor city in the far north of Russia where winters were their coldest.

Viktor had only been five when Yakov saw the boy craftily stealing away not only bread, but rare silks, jewels, and other goods from merchant carts without a single eye catching him. The only reason Yakov did was because he was specifically trained to catch thieves.

Viktor just got unlucky.

Yakov hadn’t tried to arrest Viktor right there. He followed him instead, curious about the boy who had wanted to steal silk scarves. He was too dirty to pass off as the kind of merchant’s son who would sell such things. The boy had seemed too smart at the time to at least know that much.

He followed Viktor through back alleys and down stone steps and under a bridge. He was eventually lead into a tucked away corner of the city where the buildings had been built so closely on top of one another, it made a small sort of den.

The boy didn’t notice his approach as Yakov pushed aside musty old furs, heavy with snow, and poked his head.

For being outside, the den was surprisingly warm. Cleverly so. The boy had laid out furs all around on the ground, and had stretched furs out where there were gaps between the building. It was dim, but not impossible to see.

Viktor had been something of a hoarder of fine goods. Jewels and precious articles of clothing laid everywhere. He was draping himself in the colorful, brilliant silk when Yakov cleared his throat.

After that, the rest was history.

Yakov took Viktor under his wing instead of arresting him that day. Had fostered him as a personal prodigy and maybe even something a little bit like his own son. His wife Lilia had never been able to have children, but if she had, Yakov imagined that the child would have been very similar to Viktor.

He trained Viktor informally for a good amount of years, but then began to train him formally once Viktor turned twelve. He became Yakov’s apprentice in everything that Yakov did.

They began to see the world together. Yakov wasn’t a traditional knight. He was a sellsword. Which wasn’t always particularly well received. Sellswords weren’t known for their loyalty, but it was easy enough to claim the knight’s title without much protest. After all, they could swing a sword just as well, couldn’t they?

That’s what Yakov always told him, anyway. It seemed fairly legitimate to Viktor. Besides, after only two years of practicing with a sword, Viktor realized he was better than most _real_ knights anyway.

His favorite part wasn’t the fighting though. It was the exploring. Princes and great kings would hire them out to perform extraordinary tasks. The sights he had seen were endless and incredible, and he never knew what was coming next.

Life was exhilarating.

Yet as Viktor walked the golden deserts of Dubai, pushed through the damp jungles of the Congo Basin, and traversed down alongside the Yellow River, he realized that he was missing something.

One night as they stopped in at a pub when he was about fifteen, Viktor was contemplating his beer with the intensity of a man double his age. Yakov watched him with amusement that eventually turned into worry.

“What’s eating you?”

Viktor startled out of his stare and looked up at his adoptive father, his mentor. He slid a hand through his long hair, let down for the day, and sighed. He was never a very good liar. He was just too honest.

“I’m not really sure,” he admitted, “I feel…I don’t know.”

Yakov hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin with his thick fingers. He glanced around the pub that they sat in, and then his eyes landed on something. The serving girl at the pub. He snapped his fingers and gave a laugh.

“Ah, how could I forget? You’re at that age now, Vitya!”

“What age?” Viktor asked, blinking slowly at Yakov.

“The age of _love._ You need to find yourself a girl,” Yakov explained with flourish. He remembered himself at that age. He had been so angry all the time, and it wasn’t until he fucked the stable keeper’s daughter that he realized why. Too much pent-up energy.

Viktor raised a delicate brow.

“A girl,” he stated dryly.  
  
“Mmm, you know. A _girl._ Maybe one with big tits, eh? I don’t know what you like, Viktor. What do you like?”

Viktor stared back at him for the better of two minutes. He kept on staring until Yakov began to grow distinctly uncomfortable.

“I don’t want a girl,” Viktor eventually replied with some degree of stiffness. Yakov blinked at him incredulously.

“What do you mean _you don’t want a girl?_ ” Yakov all but shouted, only remembering to keep his voice down because of the table of actual knights sitting just to the left of them.

Viktor pursed his lips tightly and looked down at his beer. Yakov stared at him blankly, uncertain of what to even do with this. Viktor had seemed like a perfectly healthy boy. So what was the issue? He was fifteen, for God’s sake. Yakov was already messing around with girls by that age, so what was….

Then something occurred to him.

There was a man he had once known, a long while back when he was still young and filled to the brim with energy. The man had been outlandishly handsome, strong, intelligent, and from a good house. He breezed through just about every challenge under the son and was the admiration of the other sellswords that worked together.

Whenever they would all go to a pub, the man would remain reserved and calm. He would outright deny going to a brothel. Everyone simply assumed that he had a lady love waiting for him somewhere.

The truth wasn’t far off. It just wasn’t a _lady_ that was waiting for him. It was another man.

Could Viktor….?

Yakov frowned hard, rubbing at his chin again as he contemplated the boy in front of him. Viktor had always been an eccentric boy, stunning to look at with his long, silver hair and bright blue eyes. He was delicate in ways most men weren’t, though he was the most lethal thing with a sword in his hand.

“Perhaps then,” Yakov carefully began to tread, “The boy who took our horses?”

Viktor tensed minutely. Red spread out over his cheeks and Yakov felt something like relief fill his gut.

For a moment, he had worried that something had been incurably wrong with Viktor.

If all he needed was to soak his dick, then that was fine. Yakov didn’t care where the hole came from. His star pupil just needed to stay focused, and as long as the solution was something so simple and carnal, Yakov was a happy man. He split open the roll in front of him and swabbed it through the gravy that had come with his roast.

“That’s just fine, Viktor. Get it out of your system. You’ll feel clear-headed instantly,” Yakov said easily, plopping the bread into his mouth.

Viktor gaped at him for a while, but then slowly he began to smile.

“Yakov,” he said rather tenderly. That was all he said and Yakov didn’t need to ask to understand that Viktor was thanking him.

Viktor never did wind up with that boy, but the sentiment was there all the same. He could have if he had wanted to. The boy was handsome, but the one thing Yakov had failed to understand about his student was that Viktor was a romantic.

**҉**

 

Their travels carried them to a small island country called Japan. It was still young to the world, only just barely starting to be influenced by China. The Empress of the land was generous at the time, and travel was easy. Many inns offered them good food, and they found themselves residing at an inn that was attached to a hot spring.

Viktor had never before been in a hot spring and it was perhaps one of the most amazing things in his life.

“You’ll rot your body away if you don’t get out and start training again!” Yakov screamed at Viktor one day. Viktor had just turned sixteen a couple of days ago, and he liked to think that he was well within his right to enjoy the springs for as long as he liked.

“But Yakooooov~!” he whined tremendously, splashing uselessly in the water. Yakov stalked off before Victor could say another word. Ah well, Yakov would get over it.

As Viktor sank into the springs, he peered out into the forest just along the edges and could have sworn for a moment he saw something peering back.

An animal, maybe.

**҉**

 

A couple days later had him traversing through the snow to hunt. He wasn’t particularly fond of hunting. He had too soft of a heart to hurt an animal, but Yakov insisted that he do it at least once in every country. Viktor had no idea why, but he tried to get it done with as quickly as possible.

He walked through the early winter forest that was just beyond the hot spring. His hair was bound behind his head in a high pony tail, a fur wrap fixed around his head for warmth. He wore a pale gray and white fur cloak that flared out from his hips and black leather trousers stuffed into boots that matched his cloak. Apparently Yakov thought he cared too much about fashion, but sue him for being both warm _and_ impossibly good looking.

In his hand was not his sword, but a bow and arrow. He was actually quite good with a bow and arrow, as Yakov and him had discovered. Almost as good with it as he was with a sword.

As he walked silently through the snow, his step every bit as light and airy as the animals he was seeking out, he heard a soft gush behind him. As the branches didn’t move, he could only assume….

He spun around, arrow knocked and arm pulled back behind his head, bow string taut. In the direct line of fire of his arrow sat a fox.

Except this wasn’t like any other fox Viktor had ever seen before in his life. It was jet black with only its haunches decorated with silvery gray fur. It stared back at Viktor with calm, insightful brown eyes. Viktor’s hand hesitated.

He had a few fox skin cloaks. They were warm enough for most winters, and another fox skin wouldn’t hurt. He was badly in need of new boots for when Yakov and him took to the road again. Yet. His heart stilled, and he held his breath.

The fox didn’t show an ounce of fear. Viktor couldn’t decide if that made the creature incredibly stupid, or if there was something much more to it.

The forest around them seemed to hum with an energy Viktor wasn’t familiar with. At once, he felt as though he was being watched by a hundred pairs of eyes. No, a _thousand._ Distantly, he thought he could heard a chanting trill of children singing, calling, but no. It was just him and the fox.

He couldn’t.  


He knew he couldn’t. He slowly lowered the bow and loosened the arrow. He raised his chin and pointed a finger out at the fox.

“You must be a suicidal fox!” he called out across the clearing between them. The fox’s right ear twitched and Viktor would have sworn the fox smiled at him.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, placing a hand on his hip and leaning forward. “Any other hunter would have shot you right through the eye.”

The fox angled its head to the side and yeah, it was definitely smiling. Not so much with its mouth, but its eyes. Viktor was almost offended. Was he being mocked? By an animal he had just graciously let live?

“ _I_ should shoot you through the eye!” he said, except he never would. Not now. He was forming a bond already and would be devastated beyond recognition if anything happened to it. Least of all by his own hand.

The fox stood up and shook the fur off its hind quarters. It gave a shrill yelp before turning away and walking into the forest.

Viktor gaped after it.

The fox had five tails.

 

**҉**

 

That night, Viktor had a hazy dream. He was sprawled naked against a white silk painted with roses blue as the sky curled around roses blood red. They bled into each other, their color spilling into the fabric. A warm weight touched down on him and soft hands cupped Viktor’s face.

Two brilliant eyes stared at him, glittering with the universe itself. It wasn’t for a lack of poetry, either. Viktor could actually pick out the constellations in the eyes.

“Please,” he found himself saying, reaching out blindly. _Please._

 

**҉**

 

Vakov had been upset he hadn’t wound up bringing anything back from the hunt, but Viktor was in enough of a funk that Yakov begrudgingly let it slide. Viktor trained with Yakov in an open field, occasionally glancing around as if he were looking for something.

He didn’t want to admit to himself that he wanted to find that fox again. Had it truly had five tails? Maybe it just had a very thick tail, but no, Viktor could have sworn he saw five very distinct white tips.

Vakov smacked him right in the shin with his practice sword and Viktor yelped.

“Hey!” he shouted indignantly.

“Focus!” Yakov snapped back, “You can’t be daydreaming.”

Viktor grumbled to himself, but went at Yakov a moment later with all he had. He’d make the old man sore later as a token of vengeance.

 

**҉**

The trek to the hot springs attached to the inn was a surprisingly pleasant one, Viktor thought. It was a steep enough climb that most elderly couples didn’t bother to try, and precarious enough that even most of the young people felt too wary to attempt. Especially this late at night, a half-moon high in the sky.

Viktor minded neither at all. He strolled up the narrow stone walk way to the hot springs with a thick cloth bundled in his arms to dry off with. A thick, plush robe was draped over his shoulders, and he was just pulling his hair out of his braid when he got to the hot springs.

It was late enough that he was suspecting he would be alone, but that was not the case. Viktor came to a stumbling halt, his foot bumping painfully into a boulder. He bit down on a shout and cupped a hand over his mouth.

Sitting on one of the smooth rocks was the most beautiful man that Viktor had ever seen in his entire life. He knew instinctively that it wasn’t even a romantic hyperbole. It simply _was_.

The man, or rather, the boy, looked no older than Viktor. His face was soft and kind, dark brown eyes downcast. His body was fit but somehow impossibly curvy. His thighs were shapely, and Viktor yearned to know what he looked like standing up. He had a foot delicately dipped into the water, and moved with an elegance that made something about him seem impossibly ethereal.

The boy looked up and immediately caught Viktor’s eye. The two stared at one another for one minute, two, then three. Finally, the boy drew his shoulders inward and looked a bit shy.  
  
“Can I help you?” he asked in softly accented English. Viktor blinked a dozen times, having to struggle to catch up on the words just spoken to him.

“No. No that’s- I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone else would be here,” Viktor admitted in a fumble for words. The boy crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.

“I could leave…”

“No!” Viktor instantly shouted and realized a second later that he had shouted when the boy startled. How smooth of him, he thought a touch bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly said, placing a hand over his heart. He gave a formal bow, having seen enough Japanese citizens doing it by now to figure it was the polite custom in this sort of situation.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I can be a bit much,” Viktor admitted with a laugh. The laugh seemed to relax the boy, who smiled at Viktor just ever so slightly. Viktor counted that as an enormous win.  


“We can share then,” the boy said, rolling his shoulders back and slipping himself into the hot springs. He did it in one fluid motion that made Viktor despair. He saw nothing at all. The _tragedy._ Ah, well. Viktor stripped out of his robe and slid into the water himself. He slid his fingers through his hair, detangling it from the kinks from the braid.

“So, does my companion for the evening have a name?” Viktor asked in the smoothest voice his sixteen-year-old self could muster. It must have been pretty smooth because the other boy blushed a little, idly trailing his hand through the water.

“Yuuri,” he said quietly. “What about you?”

“Viktor.”

“You’re foreign, then?”

“Yup! I’m from Russia. Have you heard of it?” Viktor asked. Not everyone was privy to the merchant trade routes and his question wasn’t an insult of intelligence. This boy seemed like he could have been anything in the world: a squire, a scribe, a medic, a stable boy, a lord, a prince- who knows? His beauty was that rare beauty that fit into every single category of existence, and Viktor didn’t think that such a thing was even possible.

“I have,” Yuuri said after a moment of consideration, “Thought not for a long time.”

The answer in and of itself wasn’t exactly curious. What was curious was how Yuuri’s eyes glittered. Viktor shifted closer in the water, humming under his breath. He had never seen eyes like that before, so why did they seem so familiar?

“Your eyes…” Viktor began, suddenly far closer than he had been just a moment before. Yuuri jumped at the closeness, his whole face turning red.

“What about them?” Yuuri asked, looking pointedly away. “They’re nothing special.”  


“Nothing special, hm?” Viktor said, tapping his chin with a finger. “But your…”

The boy abruptly stood up out of the water and leapt gracefully over the nearest boulder. Viktor shot out after him, only to stumble and slip against the rocks. He smacked his chin nice and hard on the nearest boulder, and when he looked up, there was no sight of the boy at all.

“What on earth…”

**҉**

“Why do you look so stupid? Close your mouth!” Yakov shouted for maybe the fifteenth time that day.

Viktor was even _worse_ now. It seemed like he couldn’t stop staring off into space and sighing. By God, why did Yakov ever decide that taking on a child was a good idea? He should have just stuck by himself and not bothered with an apprentice.

He had to rigorously remind himself that Viktor wasn’t just any child. This young man was arguably one of the best  sellswords out there. He could give any knight a run for his money. The problem was just that he had a fickle mind, and a big heart that Yakov knew needed more than just swordplay to be happy.

“Sorry,” Viktor said unapologetically. “I was just thinking.”  
  
“Oh, is that what you call it?”

Viktor ignored him.

“Can a fox have five tails?” Viktor asked rather unexpectedly. Yakov’s practice sword fell a bit and he gaped at Viktor. Of all the things for his student to ask, that was the last thing he would have ever suspected.

“What?”

“A fox. You know what a fox is, don’t you, Yakov?” Viktor asked smartly. Yakov instantly scowled at him and swiped his sword through the air to smack Viktor right across the face. Predictably, and sadly, Viktor tipped gracefully out of the way just in time.

“Yes, you righteous asshole. What about them? What’s this nonsense about a fox with five tails?”

“I think I saw one,” Viktor said thoughtfully, poking his practice sword into the ground with a frown.

“And…that’s why you’re staring off into space. Because of a fox.”

“Nope! I saw the most beautiful boy the other day at the hot springs and haven’t seen him since. My _heart_ , Yakov!” Viktor cried out, clasping his hands together over his chest, letting his sword drop entirely. Yakov wondered how he himself wasn’t bald yet.

“What the hell did you bring up the fox for then?!”

Viktor gave him a thoughtful look, rubbing at his own chin.

Then he shrugged.

“I can’t say I remember why. It felt relevant.”

Yakov genuinely had no idea why he put up with Viktor. He could always just strangle him in his sleep.

 

**҉**

 

Viktor doesn’t know why he had brought up the fox. It had just occurred to him to ask Yakov in that instant as he was thinking about how long Yuuri’s eyelashes were. He wondered if he would ever see Yuuri again.

The town that they were staying in was having a festival in honor of one of their many deities. Viktor didn’t have to try particularly hard to convince Yakov that they should take the night off to enjoy the festivities. Yakov had been working constantly since they had arrived in Japan, trying to score contacts and the like, and the break was much needed.

Besides, there would be a _lot_ of alcohol going around and neither man could deny the temptation of that.

Some of the girls at the inn had joyously insisted on dressing up Viktor in one of their _kimonos._ Although the garb was traditionally for women, it wasn’t as if men never wore them, and the girls tittered about how Viktor was certainly pretty enough to pull off such feminine clothing.

He couldn’t deny that he felt rather luxurious and beautiful in it. It was padded for the sake of winter, yet he didn’t feel at all bulky. The silk used was pristine white, as pure as the snow that had begun to heavily blanket the fields, and at the edges the silk had been dyed a pale blue. The blue swirled up, fracturing apart and forming snowflakes.

“An ice _kimono_ for our ice guest!” one of the girls had said excitedly as she carefully braided Viktor’s hair and bundled it elegantly up on top of his head.

“Ah, ah! Give him a _kanzashi!_ ” another girl shrilled suddenly. At once, all of the girls talked eagerly among themselves in flits of Japanese that Viktor was hopeless to follow.

“A what?” he asked politely, smiling as he knelt in front of the dotting girls. The servants had never had this much fun with one of the guests at the inn before. Most guests were so businesslike and boring- Viktor’s presence was a breath of fresh air. They wanted to go all out and have fun.

“A _kanzashi._ It’s an ornament for your hair. But it’s important- it wards off evil. On a night like tonight, you’ll want such a charm,” one of the girls said rather smartly. Yuuko, Viktor was fairly certain was her name.

“Oh? Evil spirits? Like ghouls?” Viktor asked.

Yuuko shook her head. “Like _kitsunes._ We’ve been known to have them in the area.”

“ _Kit-sunes?_ ” Viktor echoed, his Japanese a bit rough on the word.

“Mm! Malicious fox spirits. They can take the form of beautiful women-,”

“Or men!” one of the other girls interrupted quickly.

“True. Or men, but they traditionally shape into gorgeous women. They say if you encounter a gorgeous woman- or man- at night, to be wary that it’s a _kitsune.”_

Yuuri’s face popped inexplicably into Viktor’s head and he sucked in a quiet breath.

“How can you tell them apart from a normal person?” he asked, curious despite himself.

“Well…most of the time, you can’t. But they say _kitsune_ are wise creatures who live thousands of years. Some people thing that their eyes are peculiar because they have infinite wisdom…” Yuuko explained with a serious nod.

“I thought that was only after they got nine tails?” the other girl asked. Yuuko snapped her fingers and pointed.

“You’re right! But I know that with each tail they get, they become wiser.”

“Wait,” Viktor said suddenly, “Nine tails? You mean that the fox spirit has multiple tails?”

A rush began to flow through him. Could it be possible…? He knew of witches and warlocks, of goblins and trolls, but he knew that certain things were just tall tales. Things like dragons and unicorns. Was it truly possible that he had seen a fox spirit of all things in the woods that day?

“A _kitsune_ gains a tail for every hundred years it’s alive- I think,” Yuuko said, frowning a little. It had been some time since she had been told about _kitsune._

“Either way, they’re known for their mischievousness. It’d be smart to wear one of these bad boys for good luck,” she said dismissively, pulling out a beautiful _kanzashi_ decorated marvelously with an ornate blue rose, trailing white beads topped off with porcelain snowflakes. She leaned forward to fix it appropriately into his hair bun.

“Perfect,” she said, sitting back onto her calves. “You’ll be prettier than most of the girls there!”

The girls burst into a fit of laughter. Not at all mocking, but rather they seemed proud of that. Viktor smiled at them all, but his mind was stuck on the myth of the _kitsune._ He gingerly touched his fingers to the piece in his hair and he wondered if the fox really was a malicious spirit.

If it wasn’t, would the _kanzashi_ keep it away still?

 

**҉**

 

The streets of the little village known as Hasetsu was bursting with life. It had been a relatively quiet village for as long as they had stayed there, but it seemed like Viktor had been sorely mistaken in terms of its populace. People were _everywhere._ Women were in dazzling kimonos, as were a good deal of men, and everywhere he looked there seemed to be something brilliant.

Fire breathers spat spheres into the air, men charmed cobras out of vases, women danced in synchronized groups with painted faces. Vendors sold food of all kinds, food that Viktor had never seen before, and he gladly took his time in trying just about everything there was to try. The Japanese definitely knew how to cook, he had quickly discovered.

As he walked along, he noticed a few men glancing his way in interest. His elegance and androgyny must have left them thinking him a woman, and that somehow amused him endlessly. He winked at one man in particular, grizzled and old, and the man turned bright right. Viktor laughed brightly and walked away before anything could come of it.

As he walked through the crowds, he couldn’t help but to keep an eye peeled for Yuuri. Yakov had wandered off a long time ago to drink sake with a group of loud, like-minded men. He deserved the time away from his student. More importantly, Viktor deserved the time away from his mentor.

If Yuuri had been at the hot spring, surely that meant he lived somewhere in this area? Unless he had just been passing through…The idea of never seeing that boy again made his chest ache fiercely and he began to look with a stronger determination than before. He _would_ find Yuuri. When he did, he would apologize for whatever it was he had done that startled him so badly.

Then just like that, Yuuri appeared to him like a dream.

The entire world around Viktor seemed to slow down. A haze settled over his eyes, and the people all around him seemed to shift out of focus. There was only Yuuri. He could only see Yuuri.

Yuuri who was more stunning than when he had seen him in the hot spring. Yuuri who was staring back at Viktor with such an intense gaze, that Viktor felt his stomach bottom out.

Yuuri didn’t look like the sweet, soft thing he had run into at the hot springs. This Yuuri looked sleek and feral. He wore a splendid _kimono_ unlike any of the ones around them. It was a creamy white as opposed to Viktor’s snow white, and licking at the sleeves and the edges of the garment were intricately painted red flames.  Except they glittered and fluttered so exactly, that Viktor was almost convinced that they were _real_ flames.

The _kimono_ wasn’t worn traditionally, but sensually. Yuuri had left it loose, the shoulders of the _kimono_ completely slipped off the edge of both of his shoulders, baring them to the world. It showed off the elegant dip of his collar bone and the length of his neck.

His hair was combed back from his face, making him look far more mature. Then there was his _face_. He looked at Viktor with such an intensity that Viktor wildly wondered for a moment if he had been turned into a deer and was facing down the starving wolf. Yuuri had painted a brilliant shade of red under each eye, flecking the paint out into fine tips at the corner. His mouth was painted a dark red, as were his nails.

Those very nails were showing right then as Yuuri curved a beautifully bared wrist up and beckoned to Viktor. Viktor stumbled forward, still feeling like they were the only two souls in the world.

As he drew near, he noticed that the _kimono_ was moving. Behind Yuuri, there seemed to be five great folds of fabric. Perhaps a complicated bow? Viktor couldn’t be bothered to ask, to check. All he could look at was _Yuuri._

Yuuri with his sharp eyes, Yuuri with his dark mouth that was curving into a wild smirk.

_Fox._

The word flickered through Viktor’s mind and ah, that’s right, wasn’t it? Yuuri smiled at him the way the fox smiled at him.

 

Five.

_Five._

“You’re…” Viktor began, his voice wavering.

Yuuri touched Viktor’s hand.

“Don’t ever take your eyes off me,” Yuuri told Viktor in a firm, decided voice.

Then the vision flickered and the world swelled back to life around Viktor. People chattered on, going about their business, oblivious to what had just happened. Viktor was left alone in the crowd with the faint smell of burning wood rising in his nostrils. His heart was pounding away in his throat and he clutched at his chest, his body shaking.

Slowly, a smile surfaced on his face, a smile broader than any smile he had smiled in _years._

“I’m in love,” Viktor whispered to no one at all, and for an instant, he could have sworn he felt his heart in his own hands.

 

**҉**

 

“Can a _kitsune_ be a benevolent spirit?” Viktor asked Yuuko the next day when he saw her at the inn. She looked up in surprise at the question, but considered it seriously all the same. He rather liked that about Yuuko. She was so genuine.

“I think so,” she said after a moment, “It’s more common in this area for them to be malicious. But apparently in other areas, it’s more common that they’re good.”

“Is it possible that one here could be good then?” he asked hopefully. He may be in love, but he still hoped that the creature he loved wasn’t an incarnate of actual evil. That would make things a lot more complicated than they had to be.

“Oh, isn’t anything possible? I mean, if there’s a real _kitsune_ that lives here, then who’s to say that things are so clear cut? Maybe they’re like us. Make mistakes and make good choices.” Yuuko shrugged. So, Viktor realized, she didn’t fully believe the tales after all. That was okay. She didn’t need to. He could believe them for her.

“Thanks, Yuuko. And thank you again for letting me wear that _kimono._ It was truly beautiful.”

She blushed happily and gave him an excited nod. “Anytime, Viktor.”

He gave her a wave and headed out to proceed training with Yakov. At least he would be in a better mood today after he had spent the night at a brothel.

 

**҉**

Viktor wasn’t sure where he would find Yuuri next. Turns out that it was Yuuri who found him first. Viktor was actively working on his core strength out by one of the nearby rivers. It was a bit demanding in the cold, but Japan’s winter didn’t have much on Russia’s. After living on the streets, he also had learned to deal with the cold a long time ago.

He was lifting himself up and down from a low hanging branch when he heard a voice clearing softly. Viktor dangled himself a moment, his chest bared to keep cool, and he had to look around before he saw him.

Yuuri was standing just a few feet away. He was wearing a plain black yukata and stood in the snow with bare feet. His arms were wrapped around a small woven basket, and in that basket, there were strawberries.

Viktor instantly let go and dropped down to the ground smoothly. He tucked and rolled to his feet, standing up just in front of Yuuri, practically bursting with energy.

“Yuuri,” he said, breathlessly.

“Hi,” Yuuri said with a shy smile that hardly synced up with the one he had seen at the festival. This creature in front of him somehow lacked all of the overpowering sensuality of the _kimono_ clad Yuuri and yet, _yet…._ He didn’t. His hair was kept straight and plain, and to anyone else, maybe that was all he was: plain. But to Viktor…

There was something beautiful, something he wanted to touch, with just how Yuuri stood. His entire body was a work of art in motion, a study in grace. The way his hip curved as he rested his basket on it, the intentional tip of his head. Viktor had never been more attracted to someone in all of his life. He was starting to wonder if he had ever actually felt attraction to begin with at all.

“I…”

“Are you a _kitsune?_ ” Viktor all but shouted, excitement ringing in his voice. He had to be right. Everything lined up, didn’t it? Yuuri stared at him in shock, his mouth trembling. Oh. That _mouth_.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor said quickly, trying to sound sincere, “I just…I’ve been looking all over for you. And there was this pretty fox with five tails and then the festival…”

“Oh,” Yuuri said, looking away.

“Am…Oh, God. Am I sounding delusional? Wait, _am_ I delusional?” Viktor said, first to Yuuri and then to himself, frowning deeply. Was he losing his mind? He hadn’t even considered the possibility.

Yuuri quickly shook his head though, reaching a hand out to grab at the hand that Viktor had shoved into his own hair.

“No, no. You’re not delusional at all. It’s okay. Sorry, I just. I’m not used to people knowing,” Yuuri admitted.

“But you made it so obvious,” Viktor pointed out. Yuuri grimaced.

“That’s…because I’m sort of an awful _kitsune._ I’m old, but I’ve never been really all that great at controlling myself around things that make me nervous.”

Although Viktor had theorized about Yuuri being a fox spirit, hearing it was true stunned him a bit. The disbelief crept back in, despite the evidence of how Yuuri had appeared to him at the festival. Was he really? Was it possible?

“Are you doubting me?” Yuuri asked, his voice clearing through Viktor’s mind. For some reason, the idea of Yuuri ever thinking that left an awful taste in his mouth. His jaw tensed.

“Absolutely not.”

Yuuri gave a slow nod, frowning himself.

“Good. Because I need you to have faith in me.”

Viktor half wanted to ask Yuuri to turn into a fox to prove it, but then he realized that would do the exact opposite of having faith in Yuuri.

“Where did you get the strawberries?” he asked instead. Yuuri plucked one out and offered it to Viktor. It was perfect. The perfect shape, the perfect red, and when Viktor bit into it, his mouth flooded with flavor.

“Oh! That’s so delicious!”  
  
Yuuri smiled brightly, picking out a strawberry for himself.

“Isn’t it? I grow them,” he admitted, biting into his own strawberry. Viktor tried desperately to look everywhere but where Yuuri was slipping the strawberry into his mouth. _God be good._

“Would you like to take a walk with me, Viktor?” Yuuri asked. Viktor wondered if he had told him his name. He genuinely couldn’t remember. Such a fickle mind. He might have. There were more important things at hand, however. Such as the hand that Yuuri was offering him.

“I would love to,” Viktor said in earnest, taking that hand. It was softer than he had been expecting. Yuuri walked with him through the snow, his bare feet making the snow melt with each step.

“Your feet,” Viktor commented quietly.

“Oh. Some _kitsune_ are skilled with electric magic, but others are fire. I’m sure you can figure out my specialty,” Yuuri explained simply. Viktor made a small noise of realization. It wasn’t just the _kimono_ or the feet; Yuuri’s hand itself was so warm. Not just that, but _Viktor_ felt so warm, despite not having a shirt on.

“I hear most _kitsune_ are malicious,” Viktor said in a conversational tone. He wanted to make it clear that he had only _heard_ that, not that he believed it. Even with the image of Yuuri smirking at him like he had didn’t make Viktor feel like Yuuri wanted to hurt him.

Yuuri looked over at him with large eyes, and thank God, he didn’t look offended.

“Most of us aren’t malicious, but we are natural tricksters. A lot of humans take things personally, I suppose,” Yuuri said, smiling just the slightest bit. “They’re so paranoid. I’ve painted red marks on their doors with paint made out of berries and they think it’s blood and the devil coming for their baby.”

Yuuri tips his head back and laughs gleefully. Viktor realized that he could just barely make out the sound of a fox yipping under the roll of human laughter.

“That’s awful,” Viktor said, his mouth popped into a wide, heart-shaped grin. It wasn’t awful, it was _fantastic._

“Humans are very good at assuming things,” Yuuri said after he finished laughing, “It makes it easy to play jokes on them. They’re so gullible!”

“A lot of people forget to think twice about the world around them,” Viktor admitted. He had been guilty of it from time to time. The idea of an entire race existing though that was deemed malicious but really was just playful? That altered his perspective some. Maybe next time he felt scared in a spooky place, he could chalk it up to some spirits being jerks.

Maybe it wasn’t true for all magical creatures but it definitely made him feel better.

“So…Are you five hundred years old? A friend of mine said that each tail marked a hundred years.”  


“Yes,” Yuuri said with a sigh. “I’m fairly old. Still not as old as I would like to be.”

“Would _like_ to be?!” Viktor shouted, his eyes bugging. He couldn’t imagine _wanting_ to be old. His _hair_!

Regardless of his shouting, Yuuri only smiled gently at him. “For _kitsune,_ a lot of our wisdom and power comes from age. It’s good to be old. I’m not young either, however, so I can’t complain. You’re young though, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Viktor replied, “Only sixteen.”

“So handsome already,” Yuuri teased lightly. To Viktor’s abject horror, he could feel heat rising into his cheeks. No one had ever made him blush before. Yuuri reached a hand out and slid it through the long locks Viktor kept.

“You would look even more handsome with short hair, I bet,” Yuuri said thoughtfully, sliding his fingers out from Viktor’s hair. Short hair? Viktor had never thought about it before. He twisted his own hair around his fingers. It was hardly as if he were particularly attached to the hair. It had been growing as long as he’d been alive, really.

“But I like the long hair too,” Yuuri said after a beat, looking a little panicked. Viktor grinned to show that he wasn’t offended. It was only hair.

“Thank you,” Viktor said in earnest, “I’ll consider that.”

 

**҉**

 

Yakov was dipping a piece of bread into broth so many times that it had begun to fall apart.

“You’re serious.”

Viktor beamed at Yakov and nodded for the tenth time in a row.

“You’re in love with a _kitsune,_ ” Yakov said slowly.

“A _beautiful_ and smart and wonderful and perfect _kitsune_ ,” Viktor said dreamily, staring off into the corner of the pub. He wondered what Yuuri was doing now. Would Yuuri ever bother to go to public places like this or did he like to keep his distance? He had been at the festival after all…

“Right,” Yakov muttered, finally shoveling the bread into his mouth. “I liked it better when you just liked men.”

“Yuuri is a man,” Viktor said at once, “Just. A man who is also kind of a fox.”

“Sure,” Yakov muttered. Viktor hadn’t even had a lick of wine tonight. The bastard was _serious._ Yakov sat back into his seat and wiped his mouth with the edge of his sleeve.  


“Well I hate to break your heart, but we’re leaving Japan soon.”

What he didn’t expect was for Viktor to freeze up. What he had expected were theatric crocodile tears. Not this subtle look of distraught. It dawned on Yakov then that maybe, just maybe, Viktor was being serious about something for the first time in his life.

“Why?” Viktor asked eventually, “Where are we going?”

“Back up North. Because we got a job offering as the royal guards to a princess. It’d be stupid of us to decline something like that,” Yakov explained, “If we do well, the both of us will have a secure job.”

“A secure job.”

“Yes,” Yakov said, exasperated. Viktor’s hands curled into tight fists.

“I don’t care about a secure job,” he said tightly, “I care about-.”

“What? _Love?”_ Yakov slammed a hand down against the table, causing some of their dishes to clatter noisily across the table. “Get a hold of yourself, boy. You’re just a child.”

Viktor stood up abruptly, his eyes blazing now and his face red with anger.

“Don’t mock me,” Viktor said.

Yakov took a deep breath. Viktor was a handful, there was no doubt to that, but he was the best at what he did. It was the reason they had gotten the job to begin with. The captain of the guard had been impressed with Viktor’s skills.

“Viktor,” Yakov began, trying a different tactic. “I’ve been where you are. You meet a gorgeous creature, think all the stars are lined up, that it’s true love. But trust me, you’ve only just met this boy. You don’t love him.”

If Viktor had been angry before, that was nothing compared to now. His shoulders drew back and he looked as though Yakov had just slapped him in the face. Worse yet, the anger crumbled and all that was left was a soulful creature that Yakov hardly recognized.

“….You’re wrong, Yakov. He…He makes me feel alive,” Viktor explained, slowly sinking back into his seat. “When I’m with him, I forget what it’s like to be alone.”

“Isn’t that the point of being with someone….” Yakov grumbled.

“You know perfectly well what I mean,” Viktor said, insulted. Except maybe Yakov didn’t. For someone who smiled often and was deeply charismatic, Viktor always managed to feel painfully alone no matter how many people he surrounded himself with.

Yakov didn’t know what Viktor meant, didn’t understand such a thing, and yet that didn’t mean he was incapable of sympathy.

“Okay, fine. So he doesn’t make you feel lonely, great. We still need to go. Write him letters,” Yakov said with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t think he even has a house or anything,” Viktor said. Whenever Yuuri and him had spoken, they had wandered about aimlessly in the woods for hours, talking about nothing at all and everything at the same time. Yuuri had brought him treats of all kinds, but he had never invited him into a home of any sort. Viktor had always just assumed that maybe his type didn’t have homes.

“Well,” Yakov shrugged. He didn’t know what to tell Viktor. The money was good and the reputation would be better. He needed Viktor to agree with him on this. Granted, it wasn’t like the boy had much of a choice to begin with. Viktor was a wild spirit, but he was loyal to a fault and if Yakov really pressed, he knew he could get him to follow.

 

**҉**

It wasn’t as soon as Viktor had thought. Yakov told him that they would be leaving in a month. That gave him a month with Yuuri. He had thought for an instant about trying to do something that would make him fall out of Yuuri, but then Yuuri had come running up alongside his horse with his bright eyes and excitement in his voice as he explained to Viktor that he had found an actual unicorn.

It was impossible for Viktor to not love Yuuri. It was impossible for him to not love the gentle hands that scooped up baby birds and set them back into their nests. It was impossible to not be in love with the way those same hands could create and wind fire into intricate images that dazzled Viktor speechless. Yuuri’s heart was so encompassing that at times, Viktor wondered if he would get burned just from standing too near.

Viktor had still not told Yuuri about how he had felt. Mostly because he had been so obvious with his flirting that he didn’t think he had to. Yuuri responded with blushes and stammering, and for the longest time Viktor couldn’t figure out if the _kitsune_ was shy or if he didn’t return Viktor’s feelings and merely felt awkward about his advances.

Another thing Viktor hadn’t explained was that he was leaving soon. He wasn’t sure how Yuuri would feel about it. Mostly because he just didn’t know how Yuuri felt about _him._ Yuuri always sought him out, so surely he at _least_ saw him as a friend?

It was winding closer to the end and Viktor knew that he had to speak up. At least about leaving. If he had to, he would keep his love to himself, but it would be wrong to abandon Yuuri without a word.

Finding Yuuri had become increasingly easy. Viktor had come to realize that all he had to do was sniff the air for the faint scent of a burning fire and follow it. The woods Yuuri lived in were mostly abandoned and hunters rarely traversed through them due to the rumors of a ‘spirit’ haunting them (which turned out to be Yuuri scaring them off his territory).

This time, Yuuri was sitting on a tree that had fallen down a long time ago. His ears were out today, much to Viktor’s delight, as were all five of his tails. Viktor loved when Yuuri let himself be more of a proper _kitsune_ around him, if only because it meant that Yuuri was comfortable with Viktor.

On Viktor’s approach, Yuuri looked up and smiled, his eyes glowing like embers at the pit of a fireplace.

“Viktor,” he said, moving himself over so that there was room for Viktor beside him. Viktor took his seat and smiled hesitantly at Yuuri. Yuuri who blushed and fidgeted, his feet tapping against the ground as a small display of anxiety.

Viktor reached out and gently pinched one of those velvet soft fox ears between his fingers and gave it a light tug.

“These are soooo cute, Yuuri!” he said with a dreamy sigh, rubbing his thumb against the base of the ear. The ear flicked a bit and Viktor laughed, throwing his arms instead around Yuuri, squeezing their bodies together. Yuuri merely groaned, but Viktor could feel his cheek lifting as the _kitsune_ smiled.

“I’m glad you like them so much, Viktor,” Yuuri said quietly, awkwardly patting Viktor’s back. Viktor let go of him, smiling still, but only for a second longer. As his smile faded, Yuuri began to frown, his brows knit together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah…My Yuuri,” Viktor began, but instantly froze. His hands were loosely around Yuuri’s waist, his eyes focused absently on Yuuri’s eyes and then after a moment, his lips.

“Yuuri…I…”

Yuuri tipped his head to the side. “Viktor?”

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t tell Yuuri he was leaving and he couldn’t even tell him that he was in love with him. What kind of man was he? A coward, he thought bitterly. He was a _coward._

A soft hand was suddenly touching the side of his face. Viktor snapped to attention, lifting his head and finding that Yuuri had leaned in closer. His thumb swiped under Viktor’s eye, slow and with obvious intention. Viktor realized belatedly that he was crying.

“Don’t be sad,” Yuuri murmured softly. Viktor could feel those tails starting to envelope around him. Yuuri shifted closer. “You have to leave, don’t you?”

Viktor stared at Yuuri, his mouth partially open. “How-.”

Yuuri smiled. “I’m a _kitsune_. And I…I might eavesdrop whenever I hear your name. There were people working the springs who were talking about a Viktor leaving and I highly doubt there’s more than one foreigner here named Viktor.”

Viktor leaned back, but not enough to bring himself out of this small bubble that Yuuri had created for them.

“You’re not upset?” he asked, and he realized that he wasn’t asking it to be selfish. Loving Yuuri was not wanting Yuuri to suffer just because _he_ was suffering. Loving Yuuri was wanting him to be happy, even if he could smile in the wake of Viktor leaving.

Except Yuuri…

He didn’t continue to smile. The burning in his eyes went out and he looked older than he usually did- for just a split second.

“I am,” Yuuri admitted quietly enough that Viktor had to lean forward again just to hear him. “I…I don’t really know what to do with myself, to be honest. But I know you need to go. It’s important.”

“Yuuri…”

“Viktor,” Yuuri interrupted, smiling again. It wasn’t a happy smile, but it wasn’t a sad smile either. Yuuri didn’t say another word. He leaned forward the rest of the way, and Viktor felt a fire spread throughout his entire existence. His hands curled around soft shoulders, and he was lost to Yuuri. The kiss felt endless, and even when it was broken and Viktor was walking back to the village, he could still feel it as though Yuuri had burned it into him.

**҉**

The next morning, Viktor discovered the burn imprint of a hand against the curve of his shoulder connecting to his neck. He hadn’t even felt it. His hand closed over it and he shut his eyes. _Yuuri._

They didn’t need to tell each other what they felt. Viktor had never been more certain of anything in his entire life. Yuuri’s heart was his, and his belonged to Yuuri. There had never been a more absolute truth than the very one that would tie him to this strange, foreign land.

As they boarded into a ship, Viktor felt determined. He would serve only a couple years, two or three, so as to secure Yakov a position in the guard, but then he would come for Yuuri. As he settled into his room on the ship, he looked out onto the docks, and he saw, for just an instant, a black fox staring back at him, five tails shimmering just behind. No one else seemed to see the fox, but Viktor knew without a doubt that it was there. When it smiled at him, Viktor smiled back.

He would come back.


End file.
